


Little Bubba Rami

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Babies are cute, Diapers, Don’t Like Don’t Read, Infantilism, Little!Rami, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bottle feeding, bottles, caregiver!Ben, caregiver!Gwilym, caregiver!Joe, idk man baby stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Loving, doting daddies Ben, Joe, and Gwilym, with adorable, scrumptious baby Rami—domestic family fluff ensues to satisfy your BoRhap NSAP needs/wants.Rami—tiny infant to 1 yr oldBen, Joe, & Gwil—Papa, Dada, and Daddy, respectively (although he’s too young to even talk).This is my first fanfic I’ve ever published online—do enjoy!





	1. Three Men and a Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by @thorloser and @myworldofgayfanfiction —I love your adorable stories! I also take (reasonable) prompts so please hmu! I’ll try to update as often as possible b/c I love this idea.  
> Here’s what’s good w/ those, so pls:  
> •no scat  
> •no shipping while a character is in littlespace !!  
> •no violence/rape/non-con stuff...ick  
> •I’m also up for adding/letting any other characters be little/cgs, but I just wanted a series of my own dedicated to baby Rami and the boys 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!

   It wasn’t long before the sun began to recede on a particularly tiring day of shooting that Fletcher had allowed the cast and crew of his ongoing project to head home a tad earlier than usual. This was melodious music to the four leading men’s ears (no doubt about it), as they were arrantly drained from the throes of acting and couldn’t wait to pass out dead from exhaustion. Upon the announcement, they’d all exchanged a knowing glance before they parted to return their costumes (and teeth) to their designated dressing rooms before making the trek to their shared living space—bliss was mere minutes away.

   The boys had been waiting for the impending weekend, as they had agreed a few days prior that it was time baby Rami had come out to ”play.” Age-play, that is, was no new notion to them all; Ben, Joe, and Gwil had discovered Rami’s coping mechanism a few months ago, before they’d all bought a place together. The Egyptian was having a distinctly horrid dilemma and couldn’t contain his secret to them any longer, and thus, the cat emerged from the bag. The three (mentally) older men had indisputably agreed to care for him when in such a vulnerable state and had easily fallen into the proper roles of his caregivers. They remembered the night poor Rami broke down wailing in front of the lot, saying how much of a burden he was because of this, but Ben, Joe, and Gwil wasted no time alleviating the boy’s fears and showered him in the love he absolutely deserved. Each one of them would say, irrefutably, that they were all happiest when in the presence of the other— _especially_ when it was Rami’s little time.

   “‘O-Ome?” Asked Rami from his little (well, not exactly little) car seat, which Gwilym had buckled him into. His thumb was placed firmly in his mouth, as this was his go-to soother when his pacifier, damned thing, was nowhere to be located. Let it be further known baby Rami was _delectably_ precious in headspace—how could his daddies possibly do anything else when he was just too cute to _not_ pay attention to?

   “Yes, baby, we’re on our way home,” Gwilym smiled as he stroked his baby-soft cheek. He had this giddy grin painted on his face that made Rami feel tinier than ever before, and Gwil would certainly do everything in his power to ensure that Rami was as comfortable as possible when dropping; it could be a slow and tiring process some days for the boy to fully drop, and the elder man could only imagine how awful it must be to function between two completely separate mental headspaces, waiting for one or the other to take over.

   Gwil had spent the entire trip home just making silly faces at Rami. Depending on the quality of the day he’d had determined how young the boy would slip. For example: good days equal approx. a year or so older, with Rami being vocal (at least babbling nonsensical words) and full of energy, while bad/off days would mean his daddies would have a newborn around the house who just needed cuddles, attention, and _lots_ of sleep. If his daddies were being honest, they loved teeny tiny Rami, yet hated to see him so distraught over stress-filled days of filming. Gwil knew it was a matter of time before the baby was in complete littlespace and adult Rami was long forgotten, so he did his best to make this transition as smooth as possible for their little guy by keeping the mood light.

   “Home at last, boys,” Joe declared as he pulled the vehicle into their driveway.

    It was a humble abode for such celebrities, fit for four (sometimes) grown men and their antics; they didn’t need much, just a place to congregate after a long day’s work. After all, it didn’t matter where they were, as long as they were together.

    “Looks like our baby Ram has decided to join us tonight,” Joe smiled at the now fully regressed Rami as he removed him from his car seat and placed him on his hip.

    As the family made their way to the door, Joe had heard some baby burbling from where Rami’s head laid on his shoulder. For such as little headspaces as he usually fell to, he could be rather vocal.

   “N’aw,” Gwil cooed, stroking the boy’s hair. “Hello, sweetheart.” These three just couldn't gush _enough_ over their boy.

   As Ben secured the door behind them, he too went up to Joe to properly greet the baby, taking his hand in his own, brushing soft kisses to the top of it.

   “I’ll go get him changed if you dears want to start dinner,” Gwil offered, opening his arms to take the child from his boyfriend.

   “Thank you, darling,” Joe gave him a quick peck on his smiling top lip. “I’ll see you in a little bit, bubba,” he continued, smooching the baby before heading off to begin a meal for his family. Joe always insisted on cooking, he really did enjoy it, and with Rami’s headspace demanding so little variety in food (just formula, with a splash of vanilla), he found it apropos to experiment for his partners.

   Gwil—with his knowledge of the boy’s mentality—would place Rami at about four months tonight, due to the babbling and the lack of basic motor skills. God, he loved whenever he was just this lovey-dovey baby, all he ever wanted was to do was snuggle with his caregivers. Being an adult was hard, but Rami was thankful for his family. Even in his headspace, he understood the infinite care they were willing to give him, which made Rami overjoyed beyond compare. After his daddy got him changed into his baby gear—diaper, soft footie ‘jammies, proper pacifier & clip—Gwil grabbed a blanket from the side of the baby’s crib, wrapping him up in it, and cradling him close to his chest so the child could feel his Daddy’s heartbeat.

    With apt timing, Ben had known that Rami probably would be too tired to even have dinner with his whole family, so he quietly stepped into the room with a perfectly warmed bottle for Gwil to feed him.

    ‘Thank you, sweetheart’ the brunet mouthed to him, to which Ben kissed his hairline in response and softly shut the door behind him.

    Rami sighed in contentment as he leaned back against Gwilym, who lounged in the rocking chair, gently undulating back and forth to tempt the baby into a well-deserved sleep as he fed him his dinner.

    “My sweet boy,” Gwilym smiled, placing a soft kiss to Rami’s curls. His eyes were fluttering shut, bottle bobbing rhythmically in and out of his mouth. After a few minutes it was completely drained, to which the babe let out a tiny burp, and then completely left reality into dreamland. Gwil laid the sleeping infant down on his back in his crib, pulled another blanket over his peaceful form, lifted the bars up, and closed his door.

    The lanky Brit finally went out into the kitchen to see his partners, first sliding off his shoes by the door before heading over to where Benjamin sat and placed his hands on his shoulders.

    “Looks like it’ll be just us for tonight, boys,” Gwil announced.

    “Poor dear, he’s tuckered himself out…deserves a good sleep,” Ben yawned himself behind the newspaper he was reading at the table.

    Joe smiled softly from his place working at the stove. “Perhaps we all should turn in after dinner? It’s been a long day.”

    “Good idea, love,” Ben turned his page.

    After some quick sausage stir-fry dinner and some chit-chat, the men aided one another in cleaning up the dishes and padded off to bed. With pajamas & teeth-brushing out of the way, it was time to turn in for the night.

    Joe, Gwil, and Ben slept in the same king-sized bed each night; they rarely got to be affectionate with one another as a family during the day, so the time they had at home was to be cherished immensely. Rami’s nursery was the room across the hall from his daddies, thus depending on the night, one of his caregivers could easily be at his side whenever he needed: having a newborn in the house could be challenging, but the men knew that he needed to go that young to cope with such stressors—not one of them minded, at all, and were ready for a “midnight wake-up call.”

    Tonight, Joe slept in the middle of his boyfriends, with Gwil to his left and Ben to his left. (They like to rotate from time to time.)

    “Goodnight, loves,” said Ben.

    And thus with kisses galore, they bid one another good night.

    Never could there be such bliss.


	2. Peekaboo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben, Joe, and Gwil are new parents and they are tired™️ But they would give Rami the world...also, Joe loves to mess w/ adult Rami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off—thank you guys for all the love on that first chapter! It means so much to me! I feel so awkward writing these but I’m glad there’s people out there who actually enjoy what I write.  
> Second—y’all know this is fiction, I know this is fiction, this is just a bit of whimsy; something I write for fun.. pls don’t think I’m too weird haha.  
> Third—prompts are open so if you guys want to request something, I’ll see what I can do!  
> Have good days/nights, where ever it is that you are! Thanks for reading.  
> <3

   If Joseph Mazzello-Hardy-Lee has learned anything from those Godforsaken baby books his husbands picked up at their local library—and insisted he read—it would be to: a) never not have a bottle on hand for last-minute naps, b) watch out for toys on the floor as you move your child from room to room, and c) be sure to have your baby distracted during a change...otherwise, madness would certainly ensue. The boys have been doing their damndest to make sure that Rami’s little time—no matter how much or how little of it he had—was a blast for the kid … Lord knows he nearly keels over on the daily due to overworking himself, and the guys know it, too.

   So, when they say he “needs” this chillaxin’ time, he _needs_ this chillaxin’ time.

   Ergo, here this intoxicatingly adorable scene lays, with two of Rami’s daddies trying to keep him occupied whilst one of them attempted to lotion, diaper, powder, and dress him after his bath.

   “Alright, lovey, look here!” Gwilym smiled down at the baby, waving a rattle near his face.

   “No, no, munchkin, here’s Dada,” Ben grinned as he made a goofy face at Rami, trying to get him to laugh.

  
   The baby furrowed his brow in confusion: what on earth were they doing? He’d made some perplexed humming noises as he looked up at his Dada and Daddy putting on quite the show for him—their plan was working!

  
   Meanwhile Joe (who was hard at work), was nearly finished with this whole ordeal when out of the blue, the baby starts to cry, breaking his daddies’ hearts nearly all at once.

    _Poor_ _thing_ , Joe thought. Rami was in a rather young headspace today and probably just got overwhelmed trying to make sense of what was going on around him. This new post-bath routine was new to the three caregivers, as well, as they were the ones who suggested Rami go a tad younger than he usually did their next session. This was how things went, with either Ben and/or Gwilym attempting to keep Rami occupied while Joe changed him, but this time was the first that he had responded with tears—what could possibly be wrong?

   “Guys, give him some space,” Joe pleaded, hastening his work to a matter of seconds, finally finishing up with a zip of the boy’s pajamas. Gwil and Ben looked guiltily at one another before slowly backing away.

  
   “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, darling,” Gwil apologised sincerely, still holding onto the toy rattle.

  
   “We’ll just meet you out there,” Ben had whispered to his husband, pointing out towards the living room, as he picked up the discarded towel off the floor and left the room with their other partner. Joe only nodded in response.

   He rubbed a hand in gentle circles along the boy’s tummy, as a way to subliminally convey to him there was nothing to sob over like a baby (wait a second—).

  
   In an attempt to hush the weeping boy, Rami’s Papa wiped away the tears cascading down the plump of his rosy cheeks. It was then that an idea came to him as a fresh round of wails started up: Rami watched as Papa covered up his face exaggeratedly with his hands. Now what was he doing?

   “Where could my little boy have gone? Where’s baby Rami? Aaaahh—Peekaboo!”

   With those few words, a certain curly-haired babe erupted with peels of the most adorable giggles anyone could ever witness, making his caregiver’s heart swell with paternal instinct. Rami stuck a few fingers in his mouth, watching with utter glee as Papa tickled his sweet face adoringly.

    _There_ _we_ _go_ , _that’s_ _more_ _like_ _it_ , Joe silently thanked whatever patron saint represented the over-tired parent, as it was as though the tears had never happened. Joe decided to keep going with this shtick, to experiment with the psychology of littlespace and to get Rami’s mood back to a happy disposition. His hands once more found a spot right in front of his nose, enthralling the boy completely in wondering where his Papa could’ve gone! He began again:

   “Peekaboo!”

   This went on in rounds for what seemed like an eternity (though it was only about two more minutes in real time). Each time the laughter started up again, Joe couldn’t contain himself and chuckled right along with his pseudo-son; he’d never truly understood why this game worked so swimmingly on a baby’s sense of hilarity, but who was he to complain at another’s joy?

  
   “Alright, sweetums, I think that’s enough sillies for now,” Joe announced. “Let’s go see what Dada and Daddy are up to.”

   He hoisted the child off the changing table and into his arms, being so careful as to not drop him. Rami smelled of saccharine lotion and baby shampoo, and if the boy was a dessert, he’d be gobbled up in seconds by his daddies. They went from Rami’s nursery to the common room, where Gwil was reading a book in his signature leather chair and Ben was lying with his back to the sofa cushions, scrolling through his phone. Gwilym’s eye caught a glimpse of his husband with their baby and his neutral stance immediately flipped to sheer happiness upon seeing them both smile so fondly.

   “There’s a lad,” he quipped, bookmarking his page before going over to greet them with a kiss. “Now, what was all that crying for, hmm, mister?”

   “N’aw, I think someone was just a bit overwhelmed, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Ben retorted, taking Rami from Joe’s arms, cradling him against his body. Rami let out some adorable burbling noises in response, as if to let his caregivers know: those baby books have got it all wrong, guys.

   And, his caregivers simply couldn’t agree with him more.

…

   It had been a few days after the changing table incident, and Rami was back in his adult headspace to ready himself for the work week ahead. Ben was off on some interview, Gwil went out to run errands, and Joe stayed home to oversee Rami (and get some cleaning out of the way, too, he supposed). The Egyptian man was eating some scrambled eggs at the kitchen table, doing some research on his laptop, when Joe had walked by with the broom in his hand. While he loved his little bubba Rami, he knew that he couldn’t always stay that way and that adult Rami had to take over sooner or later (though all three men loves adult Rami just the same). Yet, perhaps there was some way he could try and get him to come out.

    _Maybe_... he thought with a smirk as he propped the broom up against the side of the wall.

 “Hey, Rams,” Joe greeted as he pulled up a chair beside his partner at the table.

   Rami took out his headphones and smiled over at the Italian. “Well, hello, Joe,” he grinned, “what brings you here?”

   “Just wanted to see your cute face, babes.”

   “Oh, stop it, I’m researching, can’t you see?” Rami playfully swatted away Joe’s presence, turning his laptop screen away from him, although in all honesty he really didn’t want him to go.

   As Joe got up to leave, however, he noticed Rami’s smile turn down and his dark brow furrow inward once more, in that same expression of confusion he’d seen a few days ago on the changing table—something was up.

   “What’s wrong, honey?” Joe scooted his chair closer to Rami’s, bringing a hand to rub reassuring circles on his back.

   “Sorry, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” Rami swallowed as he let out a breathy laugh, “I remembered something, from Saturday afternoon?”

   “Saturday afternoon?” He parroted back. “But you were little then, sweetheart. You remembered your headspace?”

   Rami had hardly ever recalled his baby time: it was like his mind just flipped a switch and he was either a man in his thirties or a wee babe of a few months; these two aspects of himself rarely ever encountered one another. This was another documented first that Joe would need to discuss with his partners, for certain.

   “I think so, yeah. Did you play...Peekaboo, with me?” Rami’s emerald eyes met Joe’s own hazel ones in a genuine glance of euphoria.

   Joe laughed aloud as he stood up to kiss Rami’s cheeks—there’s no way he’d ever let him live this down.

   “Yes, we did. And let me just say you were the _cutest_ widdle thing ever! Oh, my sweet baby Rami has the sweetest widdle waugh! He _woves_ it when Papa plays Peekaboo with him!”

   “Have mercy!” 


	3. Cuddle Pile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby gets lonely one night, so Ben goes to comfort him. Just some fluff, y’all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, man, this is a work of fiction—now you know it, now I know it, now get on with the readin’.  
> Thanks for clicking!

   Ben had awoke one night to the heart wrenching cries that erupted from the room across the hall. He used the palms of his hands to wipe the sleep away from his eyes before glancing over at the digital clock on the bedside table, that read: 02:26 AM. Ben could hear his husbands begin to stir in their sleep to see if one or the other would predetermine who got to go see what the trouble was with the kid.

    _Well, I’m up anyways…_ he thought to himself.

   “I’ve got him,” Ben affirmed, to which Gwil and/or Joe muttered some semblance of gratitude before going back to snoring. (There would be some days when Joe would _nearly_ try to strangle Gwil—lovingly, of course—as most nights, he just couldn’t stand the sound of what was reasonably comparable to a broken cement dozer mimicking the sobs of newborn cattle. Sometimes, sleeping in the same bed as two other grown men was not as charming as one would think.)

   Speaking of babies, Ben had one of his own he needed to tend to. Said child was wailing at the tip-top of his lungs, for a reason not yet apparent to his caregiver. Ben walked into the nursery with a yawn, and then diverted his whole attention to the near-screaming boy in his crib. Rami was laying on his back, his pacifier discarded off to the left of his face. He wore nothing but a simple blue onesie and some fluffy white socks on his feet, which were writhing in infantile complaint. His hands were drawn into tight fists, one of them free whilst the other clutched his blanket (covered in images of little caterpillars, gifted to him by his Aunty Lucy when he first started “playing”), that was half-draped over his body. From what Ben could make out, there were tears and snot galore streaming down his face; his cheeks and the underneath of his sealed eyes were red as tomatoes, and Ben felt like crying himself after viewing the boy in such agony.

   “Oh, my darling…” the blond frowned. “What’s all the fuss about?” He went down the list, first checking Rami’s diaper (which was surprisingly dry), then his forehead for a possible fever, so on and so forth. He just didn’t match any of the impending conditions, and Ben recalls tucking him into bed with no sworn problems— _what could possibly have caused all this?_

   Ben pushed down the bars to his crib, placed his hands firmly underneath the baby’s armpits, and heaved him into his strong arms. Ben was sure to re-drape the boy’s blanket over his body before he put one firm hand underneath his bum, while the other supported his fragile neck. He laughed a little as he felt his baby wipe some of his boogers onto his nightshirt, but Ben didn’t mind one bit. Rami’s tears began to subside when he felt his Dada start to gently rock him back and forth, shushing him all in the process. After a mere few minutes of physical contact with him, the baby had already calmed down substantially, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder as he listened to him hum a nameless tune quintessential for tempting the child back into a deep slumber.

   “That’s all you needed, just a bit of cuddles with Dada, huh baby?” Ben proposed in a hushed tone. Of course, he didn’t expect a response from him, yet as if to affirm such a notion, Rami let out a tiny coo. The baby brought his hands up and snuggled them underneath his chin, against Ben’s chest, getting comfortable in his Dada’s embrace. If there was one thing for certain: any attempt to lay Rami back down in his crib would mean utter siren screeching ‘til dawn—a cranky baby _on top of_ cranky husbands was _not_ something the Brit wanted to handle alone on his Thursday morning off, so he deemed it fit to not even _think_ about trying that maneuver.

   “‘Ada…” Rami murmured into Ben’s chest as he began to rub his right eye with a few of his digits.

   “Shhh, lovey, you’re okay,” he reassured. “You need your rest, and so does Dada, so you’re sleeping with us tonight.” While Rami was all-too young to even understand anything that came out of his caregiver’s mouth, his daddies liked to keep his brain stimulated whenever he was in _little_ littlespace, thus they would always be sure to vocally convey to him whatever it was that was going on around him; they simply couldn’t allow the baby’s brain to go to mush when he got out of his headspace.

   Anyways, Rami’s daddies tried their hardest not to endorse constant sleepovers, but they would indulge their baby every-so-often with family cuddle piles in the giant king-sized bed the three adults shared. Ben carefully leaned into Rami’s cot to grab his pacifier before trekking across the hall. Joe was sleeping off to the left of the mattress as Gwil framed the right side, leaving just the perfect amount of room for Ben to tenderly place the baby underneath the covers with his daddies.

   Rami let out a whine in response to begin put down, but Ben was quick to shush him, letting him know he’s still present. Upon realising there was another body in the bed with him, Gwil turned into the centre of the mattress to greet his partner and their sleeping baby.

   “Is he alright, Ben?” Gwil asked quietly, as to not wake Joe or Rami, who was now suckling soundly on his pacifier.

   “Yes, love, I think he was just feeling lonely; in dire need of some snuggling.” Before crawling back into bed, Ben changed his snot-covered shirt into something fresh, as to not gross anyone out with baby mucus.

   The adults embraced in a quick kiss before nestling together as one, Ben being sure to tug on Joe to get him in on the action.

   And so, the family stayed in this position ‘til daybreak, where they revelled comfortably in their togetherness.

   That following morning, Rami found himself fully awake in his adult headspace, smushed delightfully in between his little family. He took the dummy out of his mouth to give a grandiose yawn before popping it right back in, giving the soother a few experimental sucks. All three of his daddies were still intensely asleep, but Rami was content to just lay there, in between the people he loved most in this world, feeling like the luckiest boy in the world to have such a devoted brood to care for him and share his life with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. Slippin’ On Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt given to me by @myworldofgayfanfiction, to which they wrote me requesting a fic where: “Rami slips during filming, maybe when Joe/John came up with ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ and the others don’t know what to do because everyone is watching and can see that Rami isn’t right at the moment.” (It gets kinda sad, but it ends good.) Thanks for the prompt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, pardners...once more, this is aaaall fiction, a figment of imagination. None of it is real.  
> Also, sorry if there is ever a wait in b/w chapters—school and work kick my butt, but I promise as long as I keep having ideas, I’ll keep writing this story. Thank you all again for understanding and for your positive feedback. Do enjoy the tale, now! (:

   Rami Malek was a man who stood by the belief that if you put your 100% into all that you do in life—even if you don’t exactly like the work that follows—you reap what you sow, and flora beyond beauty’s compare will grow. Today was one such day where he used this teaching to push himself through the final, minuscule scenes Fletcher had wanted out of the way to send off to the editing people. It was nearing midnight, and he’d been (just barely) making it without crying for the past thirteen hours—aside from a 45-minute lunch break, he hadn’t had a moment of relaxation whatsoever. Not to mention, of course, the sinking feeling he got from teetering on the edge of littlespace all day long, trying to keep it hidden from the rest of the crew and cast.

   Rami had barely been able to spend any time with his family during the day, which made him feel so incredibly isolated, giving his headspace even more of an axe to grind with him.

   It’s not that he didn’t _want_ to work; he valued his job more than any earthly facet, anybody who meets him can confirm such a notion. It’s just that he wasn’t feeling that 100%—but, the show must go on, so they say.

   Rami gazed at himself in the mirror behind his sunglasses. It was remarkable how he could hardly recognise himself when he was in his costumes; it was a kind of dissociative, defining thought that’d cross his mind every so often. It was even _more_ weird for him to see his dadd—ahem, Ben or Gwil or Joe in costume, disguised from his senses. Being an actor was strange, but he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

   “You’re ready for your scene, Mr. Malek....Mr. Malek?”

   Rami’s dresser/makeup artist tried her best to wake him from his little trance before he’d awoken on his own, thanking her and apologising for not responding right away, to which she dismissed kindly and left to go on her break.  

   The Egyptian exhaled deeply before stepping onto the set for their next scene, to which if he was being honest, couldn’t quite recall what it entailed. It was something with “Another One Bites the Dust,” but the specifics didn’t seem to present themselves to his memory. Rami could see his partners talking with one another, probably joking around as opposed to running lines as they should be, but he was just happy to see them happy. Gwil looked over and greeted him with a smile, to which to rest of the boys did, as well. Those smiles of theirs could brighten up his rainiest day in the blink of an eye.

   “Hey, Ram,” Ben beamed at him. “You ready?”

   “Goodness, no,” Rami laughed exhausedly. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember what my starting line is.”

   “This is the fight scene, yea? Where we all get sorta pissy with each other?” Joe thought aloud.

_Fight scene?_ Rami internalised. _I don’t want to fight anyone…_

   He went over to one of the set ladies and asked to see the script for a quick second. He quickly flipped through the pages to find this specific bit before he squinted his eyes to read the fine print (“a true Deacy* look,” as Roger Taylor himself would say). Joe nodded before beckoning Rami to his side, to which he simply obliged.

   “Here, see,” Joe pointed to the defining lines in the text. “‘ _So sorry, my darlings—lost all track!’”_ He exclaimed in his best Freddie impersonation, to which Rami let out a laugh. It reminded him of when he’d read to him when he was in littlespace, sometimes...

   “Right, yes, I recall.”

   Joe read ahead. “Yep. We basically just squawk back and forth at each other the entire time.” A pause. “Mm. Then you end up shoving that paper in Ben’s face.”

   “Wait, _what_?”

   A bell tolled. “Places!”

   Joe and Rami were ushered to their designated spots on set, as were Ben and Gwil, before the director called out the first take to the marking crew. The bit had gone on just fine until it was time for Freddie to enter and ignite the flames of attitude with the other members of the band. He’d tripped over a few lines—a surefire sign of an incoming Little—calling for a scene reset (obviously, the boys didn’t mind at all), when in reality Rami was _praying_ that Fletcher could observe his deliriousness so that he wouldn’t slip on set in front of hundreds of people who could easily expose him for his coping mechanism.

   When the section between Roger and Fred finally came up, Ben could see that Rami was breaking character a tad and certainly did not want to hurt his feelings by doing such a rude thing as push his partner away from him or talk to the others in such a manner. He knew it was all just pretend, but he didn’t want his family to hate him! As the fatigue that came with such gruelling thoughts grew sharper in his mind, so too did his young headspace begin to speedily wrestle with the adult that was fighting to keep their host free from shame of an aspect of himself he couldn’t control whatsoever. What Rami hadn’t realised was that he’d frozen up, along with the fact that his breathing grew increasingly uneven and that quiet tears were beginning to stream down his cheeks. If it weren’t for his sunglasses, he’d be a goner.

   “ _Shit_ ,” Gwilym muttered under his breath. The three daddies shared the same expression of ruin upon their faces in this one second of relapsed time, as they tried to play off their protective compulsions to safeguard Rami from any extra unwanted glances (well, if the entire unit wasn’t already staring him down). Of all the times and places a little’s headspace can creep up on them, the end of a work day seems like the most uncomfortable scenario of them all.

   Of course they wanted to help him, but it’d be stupidly obvious that something was going on between the four to cause speculation among the crew—they all felt just as trapped in their own minds as Rami did.

   “Earth to Malek!” Some vulgar crewmate called out. “Is he _crying_?”

   While the cameras had stopped rolling, the action was just taking off, as the entirety of the building watched in perplexed awe as one of the most successful men in Hollywood began to bawl so freely when a scene specifically didn’t call for it. Ben, Gwil, and Joe couldn’t stand for it a second longer, and broke through the ice of their chilled stances to both comfort and shepherd Rami away from everyone as quickly as they could.

   Gwil shot a look of complete disappointment to the cast and crew as Ben and Joe had already walked out the doors of the set with Rami in their grasp, his cries still being heard from outside, faintly in the distance. The Brit walked after them to see how far the boy had dropped. The four had, essentially, clocked out anyway, so the director had called wrap on the night and told everyone to go home. After a quick pit-stop at Rami’s dressing room to drop off all their own costumes (and change the boy into a diaper and some comfier clothes to ensure a happier Rami), they made their hasty exit.

   By the time they reached home, Gwil had managed to calm the baby down significantly so that his tears had completely ceased. He laid down to cuddle the boy atop their bed, shushing his whimpers, while his other two daddies made phone calls in the other room to  Fletcher and the producers to explain whatever it was they had to disclose in order to secure Rami’s (and their own) privacy from any unwanted publicity stunts. All three of his daddies had felt so incredulously liable— _how could they not have noticed he was so close to dropping?_

   “‘Addy?”

   His Daddy’s ears pricked up. “Yes, angel?”

   “I-I bad?”

   “What?” Gwilym turned his head to look the baby in the eye, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart, why would you think that, love?”

   “‘A-acuz I yelleded at Dada...an’ I wasn’t ‘ice to you and Papa…”

   Rami saw his Daddy’s eyebrows turn up in disapproval before he peppered sweet kisses on his forehead. Gwilym had thought before that, in littlespace, he fully understood what his adult job was and what it entailed, but it appeared things were still a tad fuzzy to the kid.

   “That wasn’t you, darling,” he attempted to put simply. “You are never bad, _ever,_ you hear me?” A nod. “You are perfect.”

   To these words, Rami buried his face in Gwilym’s shoulder before he was drawn closer into his bodily warmth and nodded off to sleep. Prior to him popping his thumb in his mouth, his Daddy was always one step ahead and reached into his nightstand to grab his pacifier that was left there the previous night and slid it into his willing mouth. The two simply cuddled like this before Joe and Ben walked into the bedroom to greet their still lucid partner. Luckily, they told him, Fletcher sent out a mass-email to the _entire_ cast and crew instructing them how to understand what it was they just saw. He’d said on the phone that if anyone mentioned Rami’s headspace in a negative way in front of him, he’d fire them on the spot.

   “Wow,” Gwil gaped. “That’s intense.”

   “Rather that than harassment,” Ben muttered.

   “You're right,” piped Joe.

   It was only a matter of minutes before they all four were conked out atop the other, overtly tired from the long night they’d shared. If they had learned anything from tonight, as well, it was to _always_ be on the lookout for Rami’s headspace—he really could slip at any given time and they needed to be more prepared next time.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Deacy or Deaky? I personally think Deacy, but the ‘k’ makes phonetic sense. Tell me what you think b/c I don’t want to start a war haha.


	5. Grandparent’s Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to the lovely folks who wanted me to write about Brian and Roggy taking care of bubba Rami while his daddies are away. (Proceed w/ caution, this is aaaall fluff.)  
> Brian—Granddad  
> Roger—Grandpa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo!!! It’s!!! Fake!!! Definition: not real. Proceed if you shall, ya have been warned.

  When Joe walked into the nursery that afternoon, he didn’t expect to be greeted so joyously by Rami, who was standing upright in his crib and wiggling with excitement—a tell-all sign that the boy had a good rest. His pacifier was lodged firmly in his mouth, yet he could tell his baby was smiling sweetly behind it. Joe had noticed that his diapered bum was a bit saggy under his onesie (the baby was usually wet after a long nap), indicating he needed a change. But what Joe just couldn’t forget to mention was that he had the most endearing case of third-degree bedhead, his curls flopping every which way, making his Papa’s heart swell with adoration for his little boy. Rami—whether in headspace or not—was simply the sweetest, being able to brighten up any room with the bat of an eyelash. 

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Joe beamed, pulling down the bars to take him out. “Did you have a nice nap?” 

  Rami returned his salutation with a happy hum, using the back of his hand to swipe at his sleep-ridden eyes as his Papa lifted him out of his crib. He was in an older headspace than usual today, probably a little over a year, yet still clingy as a koala. After Joe had changed him into a fresh outfit—a yellow onesie with some short-alls, alongside a pair of socks with the rubber grips on the bottom—he carried Rami out into the kitchen, where the rest of their family was. Papa carefully put him into his high-chair so that the baby could have a little snack with his daddies before they had to leave. 

  Once in a while, Ben, Gwil, and Joe would go out together for a “date night.” Fancy dinner, fancy drink, some  _ schmoozin’ _ ... the whole package. When Rami was big, the three would include him, of course, but tonight was the first time they would have to leave him home. (When Rami drops, he usually stays that way for a day or two before aging up again.) In this date night’s case, Rami had dropped just that morning, so it would be a while before he was back to normal again; and so, a proper sitter was in order. 

  Well, in this case,  _ two _ of them. 

 The three adults were already dressed and ready to go, wearing their most dapper suits and looking devilishly handsome all the while. Gwil had cut up some strawberries and put them on Rami’s tray whilst he fed himself sloppily, awaiting the arrival of his—

  “Children, the grannies are here!”

  All at once, four heads turned directly towards the main entrance of their home to find who it was was greeting them. Baby Rami squealed in delight as he recognised none other than his beloved grandparents, Brain and Roger May-Taylor, who were just as delighted to see him. The elder men were beyond euphoric to be spending some time with their “grandson,” as they hardly ever got to see him on set nowadays, the duo overseeing the film’s music, overall production value, etcetera, etcetera.. It’d been decades since either men had cared for a child, thus they’d obviously taken up the offer to bring some youth back into their lives and look after the little tyke. When Brian and Roger first learned of this whole ordeal, they immediately helped the little family with every aspect of what having a child—especially as young as Rami—entailed. Both men were dressed casually and comfortably, as they knew they’d need the mobility to care for an active boy such as him. 

  “Don’t they all look spiffy, Brian?” Roger toyed.

  “Yes, love, they look most charming,” Brian piped back as he finished hugging the last of the adults. “And how are  _ you _ today, sweetling?” 

  Rami—with fruit-juice galore splotched all over his mouth—gurgled at his Grandad, who then went over to him to wipe off his face with the boy’s bib. While the baby made an unpleasant face at such an action, he certainly appreciated it. 

  “Thank you again for watching him,” Ben said as he fixed his cuff-links. “Sorry if it was last minute at all.”

  “Nonsense, we weren’t doing much today anyway,” replied Rog, who had already gravitated over to Rami, as well. 

  “Right, so, there’re extra nappies underneath his changing table, his nighttime bottle is already in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up,” Gwil began to list off. He wouldn’t lie, as much as he loved (and needed) these date nights, he had the worst case of separation anxiety of the three when he was away from the baby. “I know you have our phone numbers...ah, oh, his blanket is on the side of the crib, in case he gets fussy when you try to put him down. Or, Joe did you put that in the wash?—“

  “Darling, he’ll be perfectly alright. We have cared for many children in our day,” Brian reassured. “Go, have fun and be carefree; enjoy yourselves.”

  “Lord knows  _ we  _ did,” Roger smirked. 

  Gwilym gave a grateful sigh before finally giving in. “Alright, alright. Thank you both  _ again,  _ I suppose we’ll be off now. We should be back around midnight, so not too too late.” 

  The three had said their goodbyes and kissed Rami a million-fold before heading out the door. Even in headspace he knew they’d be back, so there were no tears omitted from the boy; he really was such an easy baby. 

  “Finally, I thought that they’d never leave,” Roger said, feeding Rami a few more bits of fruit. 

  “It’s hard for parents to leave their babies with another for the first few times,” his husband replied. “You must remember.”

   “That was ages ago, it seems. I don’t even remember what I ate for breakfast today, dear.”

  All of a sudden, Rami had grabbed his Grandpa’s beard and tugged it a hard as he could, making Brian laugh aloud at such a childish action. Rami had laughed back in response, to which Roger couldn’t help but give a smile himself (putting aside his own pain), attempting to pry away the baby’s fingers from his facial hair. 

  “You’ve got quite a grip, you have,” he informed the boy, who simply blew a raspberry in retort. 

   Brian cleared off the high-chair tray before lifting the boy out of it and into his arms, taking him into the living room. Set up for him was a little play-mat with some baby toys already sprawled out from Rami’s pre-nap playtime. Brian had placed him on the floor before sitting on the couch next to Roger, finding plain sailing pleasure in watching the boy amuse himself with a rattle or wooden building blocks. He would attempt to stand and waddle into other sections of the house, but would (sadly) fail, flopping down on his face nearly every time—perhaps sometime they could teach him to toddle when little? The grandfathers did their best to help him with his steps, or just make him stay out in the living room, out of harm’s way. 

  To try and force him to stay put, Brian turned on an episode of “Baby Einstein” (at Gwilym’s direction) with the  _ click  _ of a button. It was like glue for his eyes, because sure enough, Rami’s diapered bum was pasted to the mat. 

  “Smart one, he is,” commented Brian with pride. 

  Every so often, Rami would crawl up to them and lay his head of raven curls upon either grandparent’s lap or demand to be held by one of them. Brian would see to that his own mop of curls was put back so that the baby wouldn’t find anything to tug on (while he may have the motor skills of a legitimate baby, Rami himself was physically not...the kid could  _ yank  _ like there was no tomorrow). Despite this, Granddad and Grandpa snuggled him to the ends of the earth whenever he was near, soaking up all the baby-time they could get. 

  By around eight-thirty, Roger had noticed him begin to nod off as he sat upright on the floor, eyelids fluttering with sleepiness. The (once) blond nudged his husband to observe the boy’s battle with lucidity—that he was clearly losing. 

  “My sleepy boy,” Roger cooed. “It’s someone’s bedtime, isn’t it?”

  Rami whined from his place on the ground and gave the universal signal for ‘pick me up!’ in children, to which his Grandpa gleefully satisfied for him. The baby nuzzled into the crook of his neck, holding on tight as he was carried into the nursery for a bottle and his pre-sleepy-time routine. After a bought of rocking and bouncing and humming from him, Rami had drifted off as though there were not a care in the world; both Brain and Roger were grateful he truly was such an effortless tot. 

  “Sweet dreams, love,” Brian whispered with the brush of a kiss to his temple, and once they were certain their grandson had truly fallen comatose, made their way out to the common room before falling asleep atop each other on the sofa. 

  While they’d rarely moved from the singular room throughout the whole afternoon, watching over such a young boy was tiring work (for example, making sure he didn’t put every. Single. Thing. He came across in his mouth was the height of it.) Yet, neither man would trade this time with him for any earthly reason. 

  True to their word, Ben, Gwil, and Joe returned home at the stroke of the first hour to their worn-out parents and their own babe, softly, angelically snoring away in his cot. They woke up Brian and Roger, thanked them, and off the sitters went into the night. 

  Whether or not Rami woke up little or big, he cherished each minute he spent with his “grandparents”—and secretly couldn’t wait until the next date-night to have them over again. 


	6. April Showers Bring...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rami regresses to toddlerhood—are his daddies ready for this new challenge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to Jess, who wanted some mischievous toddler Rami! Thank you for the prompt! Enjoy!

   All three—not one, not two, but all  _ three _ —of Rami’s daddies would by lying if they said they weren’t absolutely panicking right now. To their understanding, the notion of “panic” was no new concept to parents everywhere, and  _ never  _ had they experience such an intense feeling in the pit of their stomachs when Rami’s headspace had decided to take a turn for the worse and age up a few years. His daddies would be there for him through thick and thin, no doubt about that, but caring for a baby and caring for a toddler are two completely separate walks in the park. 

   “Rami, no, no, no, sweetheart,” Gwil trilled, being quick to stop the boy’s crayon-filled hands from reaching the hallway walls (which were freshly painted, thank you very much). “We colour on paper, not our home, yes, dear?”

   “Yesh, Da’y,” Rami parroted back to him with a mischievous obedience. He dropped his childish stationary, popped his thumb in his mouth, and waddled off, most likely seeking to wreak havoc on some other portion of their abode. 

   If Gwil didn’t know any better, he’d place his “son’s” headspace at about three years old, marking the oldest age he’d dropped to thus far. His daddies weren’t as prepared for an afternoon staring-down the every-move of a toddler as they wanted to be, so each three worked in tandem with one another to ensure Rami was not only safe, but having fun in this new mindset. (Also, making sure he didn’t burn the house down. That was also a top priority.)

   His Dada had dressed him in some shorts and a tee-shirt plastered with a cartoon solar system on it, as gifted to him by his Granddad, as it was the perfect outfit for frolicking about on a warm spring afternoon. Rami was usually such a quiet baby, so one can imagine how off-putting it was for Joe, Gwil, and Ben to see their boy actually  _ walking _ and causing quite the scene. Since he’d dropped earlier that day, Rami had thrown a hellish tantrum, taken out all the pots and pans and started to drum on them at full volume, and flushed all the toilet paper down their loo—If his caregivers didn’t have silver hairs by the time he aged up, they were worrying too little. 

   Joe was busy cleaning out Rami’s nursery after his “little” tantrum, folding blankets and placing stuffies back into his toy chest. He’d figured that once the boy had some more time to settle down into this age-group, he’d mellow out significantly. After all, Rami wasn’t like other kids: he wasn’t rotten or mean in littlespace, and most importantly, he was no trouble-maker. So, Joe put on his best Papa spirit and decided to be strong for both his husbands and their kid—Rami’d calm down eventually. 

_    Would he?  _

   Joe was snapped out of his worries when said boy was tugging on his shirt with one hand while the other had his thumb tucked halfway in his mouth. “Papa, Papa!” He exclaimed, gleefully greeting his caregiver. “I pyay a’side?” 

   Joe glanced to his left to the water-speckled window. “Aw, I wish I could take you outside, baby-bug, but it’s pouring cats and dogs right now.” Papa lifted Rami onto his hip so he could look out with him. “See all the rain?” 

   “‘Uddles! ‘Uddles, Papa! My ‘ain boo’s!” 

   “Your what, sweetheart?” Joe inquired. 

   “I think he’s talking about his  _ rain _ boots, darling,” Ben stated as he appeared in the nursery, placing a strong hand on Rami’s back. 

   Their kid had all this energy and no other outlet to burn it out on a day such as this, so Joe supposed they had no other choice. “Sure, baby. Let Papa grab your coat and boots and we can go outside for a little bit.”

   Rami burst into squeals of joy before wriggling out of his caregiver’s grip—he had to go tell Daddy about all the fun he was going to have splashing in the puddles! Joe recalled blinking and he was gone, having already waddled out of the nursery to go find Gwilym. He looked to his husband and laughed. 

   “Man, he’s just a little spitfire today,” the brunet exhaled exasperatedly, heading into the closet to retrieve Rami’s gear. “Toddlers are cute from a distance, but it’s a whole other story when you have one of your own.”

“I know, it’s crazy,” Ben agreed. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m tired as all hell. If he doesn’t sleep like an angel tonight I might throw a fit myself.” 

   “Yep. And I’ll be right there with you,” quipped Joe. “Poor Gwil. Then he’ll have  _ three _ big babies to look after.” Ben scoffed and pushed him away playfully before finishing up the last of the nursery’s tidying. 

   All the while, in the living room, Rami was busy talking his Daddy’s poor ears off. Gwil had Rami positioned just so that his little tush was on his caretaker’s lap while the Brit was diligently attempting to wriggle some socks on his feet, so that they didn’t get cold while he was playing about in the stormy weather—dealing with a cranky tot must be far worse than any cranky baby, and Gwil didn’t want to take any chances. 

   “Oh, is that so?” Gwil situated the child atop his knee, prolonging his current ramble to keep him occupied. The three men would soon come to find that their boy’s talkativeness was only heightened in his toddler headspace; they simply adored to hear Rami being so chatty and expressive instead of his usual comatose state whenever he aged down (he certainly kept them all on their toes, especially today). Even as an adult, it seemed that the Egyptian could talk for hours and hours on end with his family, as, of course, he was _ most _ comfortable whenever in their presence. 

   “Yeah, Daddy! An’, an’, an’ Papa and Dada said I can go outside! E’en tho’ the sky ish cryin’!” The smile on the little boy’s face was enough to move mountains, and Gwilym couldn’t help himself, as his lips soon were peppering the sweetest kisses all over Rami’s face, widening his joy thousandfold. 

   “Da’y, stop!” The little boy would cry out between peels of laughter. Gwil was in the process of growing a beard for a part, and the prickly-ness of his stubble must be adding onto the tickle-factor of his kisses. 

   “Oh no, is Daddy’s beard poking you, little one?” Gwil questioned with a smile, to which Rami nodded with the last round of soft giggles being emitted. “Alright, enough of that, then. Let Daddy change your nappy and then we can head outside with your Papa and Dada to splash in some puddles. How does that sound?” With one final kiss, Gwil lifted Rami onto his hip before heading into his bedroom to change him. 

   Unbeknownst to his Daddy’s knowledge, Rami had other plans:  _ to avoid this diaper change at all costs.  _ He just wanted to go outside! Why did his daddies have to make this so difficult for him? 

   “No, Daddy, lemme play!” The boy cried out from the elder man’s grip. 

   “I will, sweetheart, I’ve just got to change your wet diapey before you get a rash,” Gwil explained, laying Rami down on a changing pad he’d put atop his bedspread. “You know how uncomfy it is, Daddy’s just looking out for you, baby.”

   Despite his toddler-esque mindframe, Rami  _ did  _ completely understand what he meant. But, still...this was taking—quite actually, to the impatient man-child—eons, and he wanted to be done  _ now.  _ Gwil simply couldn’t work like this, with him wiggling about in anticipation. He was beginning to get annoyed but kept a cool demeanour. 

   “Please stay put, darling, I’m nearly done,” he promised. 

   And so, Rami pouted through the next few minutes of powder and a fresh nappy before jumping to his feet and sprinting for the door: he wasn’t going to waste the last few minutes of amusement in doors!

   Joe and Ben were walking down the hall when they barely caught a glimpse of Rami running (with a slight, adorable waddle) out the door into their yard, where the driveway was fraught with spills to his little heart’s content. 

   Joe blinked at Ben, Ben blinked at Joe, and when Gwilym emerged from his bedroom the three men shared a collective sign. They hastily made their way to the front of the house, being sure to throw on some form of protection against Mother Nature before going out into her unforgiving world. They paused to admire the innocence of their son, who took simple pleasure in such an act as splashing about in the rain.

   “Please, be super careful, Rami!” Ben called after him. 

   Joe and Gwil both gave him a whack on the arm, as if to say ‘look at our kid.’ They just couldn’t believe how precious he was, frolicking about without a care in the world. Rami had a ginormous grin spread across his face, a contagious laugh to go right along with it, and his daddies seemed to forget all about the hours prior where he was nothing but hellion-sent. The three men shared a smile as they further watched him hop from puddle-to-puddle. As parents, nothing was grander to them than to witness such glee in their most beloved. 

   All of a sudden, just as the rain had brought joy, the grey clouds suddenly turned vicious and sought to spread havoc among their household. A divet in the pavement was placed in the way of the bouncing boy, whose rubber shoes caught the front of the tiny hole and sent Rami down on the concrete. 

   “ _ Shit _ .” 

   Oh, this kid had a pair of lungs, alright, as he cried the whole way back into the house and even through his bath, worsening the headaches of his caregivers. Of course they hated to see him in such turmoil over a few scrapes, but they all seemed to agree that in another life, Rami Malek-Mazzello-Hardy-Lee was some 18th century French opera’s  _ prima donna _ . Rami had gotten two big cuts on both his knees, as well as one on his arm, left palm, and chin, which were all patched up lovingly by his caregivers. His daddies were trying to think of ways to explain to adult Rami just how he’d hurt himself so badly, but it seemed pitiful to mention their mutual fail as causation for his injuries.

   After Ben got him to drink about three-quarters of a bottle, the cries had died off, and Gwil could finally lull him into a sleep that would (hopefully) ease his head after such an...eventful day.

   Once all the adults dried off and readied themselves for bed, Joe had decided that tonight was not an appropriate time to confine Rami to his lonely crib, as the toddler was in a clingy mood after his trip. Of course, not one of them seemed to care about all that. 

   “You know,” Ben yawned, “I  _ did  _ tell him to play carefully…”

   Joe and Gwil scoffed at him, snuggling up against Rami, who’d already lost his battle with lucidity long ago. Ben eventually caved and found a place beside his tallest husband, the family embracing as a whole after a beyond trying day. 

 


	7. Fishy, Fishy, In The Sea...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Rami spends some quality time with his favourite (and only) Aunt, Lucy, on the beach!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to add a chapter to this story... but I'm back! Please enjoy. Be kind to yourselves and others. Drink water. That's that on that!

A most splendid summer day in LA dictated that Lucy take out her little nephew for some bonding time at one of California’s many gorgeous beaches. After filming had essentially wrapped about a month ago, she rarely got to see her dear friend anymore, and upon learning of her “brothers” needing some adult time to themselves, she knew there was no better way to get herself some downtime than by spoiling baby Rami with a day in the sun. Lucy’s manager had told her of a location that was usually quiet so that the two could enjoy their day away from the public eye—especially when Hollywood’s “it” actor was currently sound asleep on a beach towel, sucking on his personal pacifier while wearing nothing but a swim diaper and a sun hat. The baby’s nap-time was usually around noon, and the pair had already had an exciting day frolicking about in the ocean just enough to tire him out. 

His Aunti sat radiantly next to him in a foldable chair, reading some romance novel one of her girlfriends had recommended to her. If she was being honest, the book was absolute shit and watching Rami peacefully rest in his littlespace was far more entertaining. She took out her phone from her purse, snapped a few quick photos, sent them to the boys, and reinserted her device into her handbag. Rami was simply divine, and she couldn’t be happier that this scrumptious bundle of joy was her family. She took a freshly manicured hand and stroked away some of his sea-salt curled locks from his eyes, which fluttered adorably at her tender touch. Lucy noticed the babe was slowly awakening from his kip, and she smiled sweetly at the boy, who kindly returned the sentiment. 

“Good morning, my little love,” Lucy greeted. “Ready to have more fun with Aunti?”

Rami did his best to sit up on his own and made grabby hands for his beloved aunt. “Tee-tee!” He squealed in glee around his paci. Of course, in his infantile mindset, he thought he was saying “Aunti,” but Lucy much preferred his babyish way of speaking. Who could resist his cuteness? 

No one. You, dear reader, are _damn_ right. 

Lucy put her book aside and lifted the boy from his towel onto her lap. Rami burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and cuddled as close as he could into her embrace. Lucy rubbed soft circles onto the baby’s back and took in his company: she wouldn’t give this up for the world. 

After a few minutes had gone by, the blonde took the liberty of peaking down the back of the baby’s swim nappy, which was completely soaked. 

“Alright, darling, Aunti’s just going to change your nappy and then we can go back in the water, how’s that sound?” The Brit proposed to the Egyptian, already laying him down to strip his lower half as fast as she could before the police deemed a public indecency violation. Before the boy could mutter so much as a whimper, his Aunti had discarded his dirty swim diaper and had a fresh one on him in seconds flat. 

“Wawa, Tee-tee?” The baby asked, taking out his pacifier from his mouth and pointing to the glimmering sea in wonderment. 

“Yes, sweetheart, that’s the water, where the little fishies like you live,” Lucy stated matter-of-factly, ‘booping’ the boy on his nose, making him giggle. She helped the tot onto his wobbly knees, guiding him to stand, before the pair made their way to the ocean atop blistering hot sand. Step-by-step, she made sure her nephew didn’t tumble over his own feet (after all, baby Rami could barely even walk on his own). The boy laughed, as the grains of sand were tickling the sensitive soles of his feet. When the pair had made it to where the ocean meets the land, Rami plopped down on his little bum, and awaited the next rush of salty sea-water to wash over him. 

Lucy ran her fingers through the boy’s softest curls, trying to rid his hair of any snarls and bits of sand for his impending bath. She simply stood watch over him, ensuring he didn’t shovel anything into his mouth or get too frightened by anything. Whenever the ocean met his skin, he looked back to his beloved Aunti and laughed so intensely, you’d think he was watching some Netflix comedy special. 

After a few minutes of this same sequence of events, she noticed the blistering California sun begin to reside along the tangerine horizon. Rami was rubbing at his eyes (with his sand-coated hands) and nearly nodding off, so she deemed it fit to head back home. Lucy dried Rami off as best as she could, securing him in his car-seat before she went to retrieve her umbrella and other material items from their dent in the earth. 

When they arrived back to the Hardy-Lee-Mazzello household, the men in question were still out and about doing… whatever it was their starlet money could buy, and following a nice wash, the baby was promptly ready for bed. Lucy hummed a tender lullaby as she rocked the boy back and forth, stroking his soft cheeks. 

“Sweet dreams, my angel,” she whispered. 

With the flip of a nightlight, Lucy stepped out of Rami’s nursery, reflecting on the wonderful day she spent with her beloved nephew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please send me your requests—I crave inspiration.


End file.
